


Crossroads, Demons

by poisontaster



Series: Winsister [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mutual Non-Con, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-30
Updated: 2008-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the poison wears off, reality sets in.  Follows immediately from Crossing Lines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossroads, Demons

"Addie, what if you get pregnant?"

She lifts her head from her knees, looking tired and strangely old. Sam again sees her as _adult_ , but in a different way than before; less sexual and more the simple weight of life lived. "I won't."

It's night. According to Addie, Dean said he'd be back to them by midnight. Not having spoken to him himself, Sam doesn't know if Dean had just driven that far away from them—and what was happening—or whether it was going to take him that long to get his shit together. Either one seems just as likely as the other. Sam's stomach is sour with the thought of what it'll be like between the three of them once Dean gets back.

He's not even sure he knows what it's like _now_ , just him and Addie.

"Do you know that? We weren't careful." No way they could be, with the venom burning up their blood and good since, driving Sam, at least, to cross a line he'd never thought of crossing. And yet…

The thought of it—fucking his sister, and never mind she's only half—makes him feel anxious and ill, not unlike the vague rumblings of uneasiness he'd felt before Jess had been murdered. But the memory… Just thinking of Addie's body under his, the solidity of her small bones, the crushing strength of her thighs, her cunt, warms feverishly through his body. She'd felt _familiar_ in his arms in a way that went beyond simple _femaleness_ and into the prickly and dangerous specificity of _Addie._

"We weren't careful," he repeats, picking at the cracked Formica on the dinette table.

"Sam." Addie's voice is rasping but calm; despite her huddled and seemingly penitent posture—legs drawn up and arms locked around her knees—her eyes are calm too. "Don't worry about it, okay? Please."

It's funny. Now that her towering and bitter anger with him seems to have burned out at the roots—at least for the moment, because Sam knows her ability to hold a grudge—he feels like he knows her less than ever.

"I just don't want to compound one mistake with another," Sam says—and realizes they're exactly the wrong words when Addie's face brittles and thins. Of course, being Sam, he presses on anyway. "I don't know what…what you and Dean's arrangements are…" Cold and getting colder. Sam's shoulders drop. "I worry about you, Addie," he confesses. "And…I don't know what you want, but I don't want that for you. I don't want to fuck up your life."

"You mean it gets more fucked up than this?" Addie's lips curl in something that's not amusement. She unfolds and crawls the length of the bed and then comes across to him. Despite her butchered hair and sharp, foxlike face, he can't mistake her for anything but a woman and his hands find their way to the curves of her hips like dogs crawling home. Addie pushes his head up with her forefinger to make him look her in the eyes. "I can't get pregnant, Sam." She lets go of him and tugs at the tank top she insisted on keeping on through everything and pushes the waist of her boyshorts down. "Not now. Not ever."

The smooth pale skin is broken by scar tissue just below her navel, thin and silvery enough that he'd missed it or allowed himself to miss it. It looks old, though Sam knows it can't be. He's remember something as bad as this smiling curve of damage, going nearly from one side of her to the other.

"The demon," she says in answer to the question Sam knows is naked on his face. She lets her clothes snap and slide back into place, only the slight tremor of her hand as she smoothes her tank flat betraying her.

Sam thinks of Jess, the dark line of blood visible even through the shifting clouds of heat and flame. He thinks about what Dean told him about Mom. He knows all that is in his face when he meets Addie's eyes again.

Addie's mouth flexes unevenly, still swollen and pinked up from his kisses. "How do you think it got Dad?"


End file.
